The Trouble with Christmas by Kaira Rouda Page A

really hated cold showers but Lily had left him with no other choice. She’d just been dumped by a jerk, but he couldn’t help his body’s reaction whenever she touched him, no matter how innocently. She needed time, but he wanted her now. For always. That thought came out of nowhere, but it was true nonetheless. He had never felt this strongly about a woman before, there was something about Lily that completed him in some fundamental way he hadn’t even known existed. She filled a space in his soul he hadn’t realized was empty. Before he’d met her, he hadn’t felt like he would ever find somebody to love, somebody to take care of and to treasure.
    His timing sucked. He wanted to be in a committed relationship with her, but she was still reeling from her broken engagement. There was nothing he could do. Shouting ‘I’m not Bob,’ wouldn’t cut it. He was reduced to waiting and hoping. Two of his weakest points. He had always been a man of action.
    “Look at me getting all romantic,” he chided himself. He was getting way ahead of himself and he’d never felt so out of whack before. As he stepped out of the shower and toweled off, he marveled again about the smells and sights of Christmas now filling his house, a house that had been transformed into a home. Avery had even decorated the kitchen table with a candy cane themed centerpiece to match the rest of the décor. Where did she even find all of this holiday cheer, he wondered?
    As he pulled on his favorite light blue cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans, he noticed a framed photo of Lily, laughing in front of a decorated Christmas tree. Pure joy Lily. He challenged himself to bring that expression back to her face this Christmas. He hurried downstairs to convert all of his ego-crushing telephone calls into solid orders: Christmas dinner orders that would highlight the special Lowcountry cooking of Marshside Mama’s and be delivered on time.
    *
    LILY
    She parked the golf cart in its spot out front, hurried up the stairs to the main door, and into the foyer. She looked around and smiled, the coast still was clear. She raced up the grand staircase, taking the steps two at a time, and made it to the top in record speed. As she turned the corner, she careened into James.
    “Oh, sorry,” she said. “I hope I didn’t get you dirty.”
    “Lily,” James backed away from her as if she were a skunk about to spray him. “What happened? You’re a mess.
    “Cooking happened, James,” she extended both arms out, palms up, imagining that she did probably look and smell a bit feral to him. “This is the look of a person who has been working in the kitchen for a shift.”
    “Where have you been lending out your talents?” He demanded in an imperial tone that uncomfortably reminded her of Bob.
    Lily was suddenly proud of her messiness, her wild hair, her shiny face, and her food-splattered clothes. She was proud of her smell because it represented the new dishes she had learned to prepare, the new experiences she’d had, and the new confidence she’d gained. She now knew there was life after Bob, and she had no intention of going back. She liked where she now was.
    Do one thing every day that scares you . Her favorite saying popped into her head. She’d forgotten this Eleanor Roosevelt quote, and maybe forgotten herself, for the past five years.
    “Have you been at the inn, in the kitchen? They let you just grub about?”
    Lily nearly tossed her hair back and snorted at him.
    “I’ve been on the backside of the island, near the marsh, helping the cook at a fabulous local restaurant called Marshide Mama’s,” she relished his bewildered look. Of course James had never been there. “You really should try it. It’s going to be the hottest, most desirable reservation on the island after the holidays. Mark my words,” Lily said, feigning a confidence she’d determined to internalize.
    “Oh, so now you’re the arbiter of taste on Indigo Island, are you?”